CHAPTER
THIRTY-ONE

Dinner had passed in a blur. All he could think about was that car: why it was here, and why the hell he was clearly being followed? What was it they thought he’d done? Or what did they want? Was it Mick? Pierre? Or were they following his father’s trail, too?

And by the time Mick had found a random field to camp in – which wasn’t even a designated campsite and clearly risked them being shot by the farmer if he found them trespassing – Noah’s lack of complaint was clearly making Harry suspicious.

“What’s wrong?” Harry said.

Noah eyeballed him. “Nothing. All good.”

“Right, well, that’s obviously not true – I was watching you out of the diner window when Pierre came to get you for the food, and you were just staring across the car park doing that feet-shuffling, need-a-wee thing. I nearly came out to check, but OK.”

“I didn’t need a wee. I’m just worried about the diamonds.” Noah nodded. “Trying to … piece the mystery together.” He tapped his head. “All up here.”

“Harry! Come and help me hammer these stakes in!” Mick shouted over.

“Make sure it is nice and erect!” Pierre grinned.

“Pierre,” Harry warned.

Pierre held his hands up. “What? I say the wrong word?” He reached into his bag and pulled out a bottle of wine. “Everyone needs to chill.”

Noah watched as Pierre unscrewed the cap and splashed the wine into a plastic cup. “Here,” Pierre said, passing Noah the cup. He lowered his voice. “Not as nice as before, but better than nothing.”

“Stop mentioning ‘before’,” Noah said, downing the cup. “Thirsty,” he explained, seeing Pierre’s surprised expression.

Pierre refilled him, and glanced over at Harry, bashing a tent peg into the ground. “I lost my virginity in a tent.”

Noah took another gulp of wine.

It was going to be a long evening.

But alcoholic oblivion was definitely better than living in fear that a black Vauxhall Astra was going to come screaming into the field any moment, with masked and armed heavies bundling Noah into the vehicle so they could…

No. Don’t think about it. It’s FINE!

It wasn’t fine.

He drank some more wine.

“What the hell are you wearing?” Harry said, watching Noah struggling to take his chinos and hoodie off inside the tent.

“This is a ribbed thermal long john,” Noah explained. “With matching vest top. I know it’s not particularly sexy, but it’s practical.” Noah giggled. “Now my willy won’t get frostbite.”

“How much have you been drinking?” Harry said.

“Oh, for shame! What makes you think I’ve been drinking?”

Harry sighed. “I’ve literally seen alcohol pass your lips.”

“The merest soupçon,” Noah shrugged. “The slightest hint of wine, that is all.”

Harry grinned. “You’re tipsy.”

“No, no, no,” Noah said, attempting to pull the right leg of his trousers off, which were caught up in his hiking socks, “no, because alcohol is very damaging on the immature liver, so.” He hiccuped. “Mmmm, ver, ver, nice here –” he hiccuped again “– sausages,” and giggled.

Harry leaned up on his elbows, already in his sleeping bag. “Need a hand?”

Noah giggled again. “Naughty! Naughty, Harry! ‘A hand’ indeed! La!”

“Literally just offering to help, but—”

Noah toppled over and collapsed in more giggles and a snort.

“Jesus,” Harry said.

“Gaaahhh!” Noah said. “These clothes.”

“What about them?”

“I’m too … mmm…”

“What’s the matter? Are you too hot?” Harry said,

“Too … hot … yes. Hot. Am hot. All the clothes.”

“CAN YOU KEEP IT DOWN IN THERE?!” Mick shouted from his tent.

Noah flailed around on the floor. “I am quiet, though! These walls … are paper thin! I remember when houses were made of bricks and … wood!”

“This is a tent, though,” Harry said, getting out of his sleeping bag and crawling over to Noah. “Come here.”

“I want to be just in my boxers and a T-shirt, like you,” Noah said.

“Well, that’s fine…”

Noah hiccuped. “No, but, the long johns … they’re too complicated to take off… I wish I’d never… Awww, your nose is so pretty,” Noah said, pressing Harry’s nose with his finger. “Beep, beep! So cute.”

“Thanks.”

“SHUT UP!” shouted Eva from the tent she was sharing with Pierre.

“SHUT YOURSELF UP!” Noah shouted back.

“Noah!” Harry said. “SORRY ABOUT HIM, I’M SORTING HIM OUT!”

“WE DON’T WANT TO KNOW!” Mick shouted.

Harry grabbed hold of Noah’s trouser leg and pulled the trousers off, along with one of his socks and then, on Noah’s insistence, turned his back, closed his eyes, and put his fingers in his ears whilst Noah removed the long johns and put on his normal boxers.

“Am ready!” Noah declared, tapping Harry on the back. “Now, cuddles.”

Harry was barely back in his sleeping bag before Noah had wrapped his arms around him and was snuggled into his neck. “Nom, nom, nom,” Noah said.

“What was that?”

“Good enough to eat, you are, mister man.” Harry’s face was so close to his. They were almost kissing. Pretty soon, they would be. “Mmm, Hazza?”

“What?”

“Mmm … if we … one day, if we lived together… You know, in a house, or apartment, or villa, or flat, or … yeah? If we did, OK, would we … do you think if we had a Nespresso machine, it would be one of the ones that had its own integrated milk frother? For cappuccinos and the like?”

Harry exhaled, clearly thinking about it. “I wouldn’t worry too much about that right now, Noah.”

“No, but, I do. Would we?”

Harry stroked the back of Noah’s head. “Probably.”

“Mmm. Good. That’s nice.”

They lay in silence for a bit, their breathing the only sound.

“Mmm, Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“Why … why is your ear so cute?”

“IT’S JUST HIS FUCKING EAR, SHUT UP!” Mick shouted. “FUCK’S SAKE!”

“Ver, ver rude,” Noah muttered. “Such … foulness. The drag artiste doth not appreciate your fine, fine, ear, Hazzaroo. But I know! ’Tis the finest ear I have ever seen, my liege.”

“Maybe try to sleep,” Harry suggested.

“No, but another thing,” Noah said, “I was wondering what our ship name should be because should it be ‘Narry’ or ‘Norry’?”

“Or ‘Hoah’?”

“Hoah!” Noah giggled. “That’s so…” He hiccuped again. “Mmm, need a Pepto-Bismol. Mm. Mm, Harry? Harry, can I ask you a thing?”

“Sure.”

“I want … with my finger … to … put it here,” he said, placing it on Harry’s nipple. “On your teat.”

“Nipple. Fine. That’s fine, Noah.”

“Yes.”

“OK.”

“Is that nice?”

“Er, yes.”

“OH FOR CHRIST’S SAKE!” shouted Mick. “CAN YOU PLEASE JUST SCREW AND GET IT OVER AND DONE WITH!”

“Ignore him,” Noah whispered. “He is only jealous of our young love and that everything is unicorns and sparkles for us. Mm. Now I just move my finger like this a bit,” Noah said, delicately making small circles on Harry’s lovely pert nipple.

Harry exhaled unsteadily.

“I read about this in a … hiccup … book my mother has called … hiccup … Foreplay for the Over Forties, subtitle: New sexual excitement for jaded lovers.”

“Uh … huh…” Harry muttered, eyes closed, with his head back on his pillow.

“Mmm, Harry,” Noah said, resting his head on Harry’s shoulder, while continuing to make the little circles. This was all so much easier to do after a bit of wine. Noah was feeling so emboldened, he traced his finger down Harry’s chest, down to his tummy button, and then lower, down to the waistband of his boxers, gently lifting the elastic and sliding his finger just underneath, running it along under the band. Noah looked back up at Harry, who was still lying back, open-mouthed. Harry was adorable. His adorable boyfriend. How had Noah been so lucky to end up with someone as lovely as him? Noah traced his finger back along the waistband. It felt strange, touching Harry like this. This boy who he’d grown up with. This boy who, he realized now, he’d longed for, for so … long. Sometimes, in the safe solitude of his bedroom, he had thought about Harry. He had thought naughty things. So it was confusing, because here he was, right in front of Noah now, in just his boxers and a T-shirt, and Noah knew, if he wanted to, he could trace his fingers lower … he could do that … and Harry was clearly quite keen for that to happen… And yet … why wasn’t Noah? The thought of doing anything more made his insides quiver. And yet, in his head, he’d done that. In his head, he’d done loads of stuff with Harry. But the reality felt scary and … Noah didn’t even have an erection.

What the hell? That could not be normal. He liked Harry. More than liked … so what did this mean? Noah took his hand away and looked back at Harry, who was smiling at him.

“Night, then,” Harry said.

“Goodnight, Harry,” Noah said. “I love you.”

“Love you too.”